


Minding Your Own Business

by perniciousLizard



Series: Fired Up and Bone Weary [12]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Puns, Established Relationship, M/M, POV Grillby, Post-Pacifist Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 08:15:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6603487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perniciousLizard/pseuds/perniciousLizard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a long night at the bar, Grillby and Sans have a conversation about health, and Grillby's future plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Minding Your Own Business

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing about Alphys and Undyne's wedding [here](http://it-refused.tumblr.com/post/142909124637/working-title-wedding-part-1-pairing), and it's now all up [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7181363) for anyone curious.

The air inside Grillby’s was stifling, but people packed themselves in anyway.  Grillby hurried around, only hearing snippets of conversation from his regulars.  He hadn’t seen Sans all day, but he didn’t realize he hadn’t until Sans popped in half an hour before closing.  

Sans gave Grillby a little wave and then shrugged and found an empty seat in one of the booths with the huge toothy monster Big Mouth.  

Grillby shook his head at his waiter and went to take Sans’ order himself.  

“full house tonight, huh, grillbz,” Sans said.  

Grillby nodded.  It was emptying out, and Sans still thought it was crowded.

He wondered how Big Mouth was doing.  He’d heard in passing that they had a new job, but he had no idea what it was.  

Nights like these, he thought about what a “busy” night had meant back in Snowdin.  He shouldn’t miss that place as much as he did.  

Big Mouth ordered another plate and Sans got his usual, and then Grillby didn’t see Sans again until the last customers filtered out.

Grillby took off his apron and sat down across from Sans.  A loud, rude noise sounded through the bar.  Grillby picked up the whoopee cushion that had somehow appeared under him and he made sure Sans was watching when he destroyed it.  

“wonder why b’ mouth left that there,” Sans said.  

Grillby shook his head.  "…never mind.  How have you been?“  

Sans looked away, thinking.  "today was kind of a pain in the tailbone, but pretty good actually.”  

“Were you with Frisk?”  

“nah. problem with having a great bro like i do is, he gets an idea in his head and doesn’t let it go.  i had a checkup.”  

“Oh.” Grillby had a vague idea that Sans had low HP, and that Papyrus worried about it, but he didn’t look at other monsters’ stats.  He thought it was more than a little rude.  "How did it go?“

Sans took even longer answering, this time.  He still had a glass, mostly empty, and he fussed with his straw before deciding what to say. "good, actually.  base hp’s up.”

Grillby was inclined not to ask, but he thought maybe he needed to have some idea how low it was. Sans wasn’t just one of his regulars, or even just a good friend.  Maybe that was why Sans was talking about it at all.  "To what?“

"you know what it was, right?”

“No?”

“we got pulled into that fight, so i figured you did.”

“I was distracted.”  

“ok, right.  what’s yours?  like four hundred?  huh.”  

Apparently Sans did not think it was rude to look at stats.  "…something like that.  Sans, do you think I should know?“  

"uh. whew, i dunno.  guess you talk to paps all the time, and it’s not like it’s a secret.”  He rubbed his skull like it was aching him.  

Grillby suggested they talk about it upstairs.  

“didn’t mean to get so heavy on you right after work.  i should keep things pretty _light_ with a fire monster, right?”  He chuckled.  

Grillby felt increasingly uneasy as they climbed the stairs to his apartment. The first thing Sans said didn’t help much.  

“ok. it’s not a big deal.  it’s actually a really small deal, because it’s so low.”

“…Sans.”

“ok, ok.  go ahead and run a check.”  He shoved his hands in his pockets and shifted from heel to toe.  

Even though it was Sans, and he had just given explicit permission, Grillby still felt like he was invading his privacy.  It took a minute for the number to actually sink in.  "…this is up from normal?“

"yep. doc gets out the baby scanner for me,” Sans said, chuckling.  

Grillby sat down.  

“you all right there?”  

“…am _I_ …”

“yeah i figured you knew.  shouldn’t’ve mentioned it.”  

“…you…”

“i’m just gonna–” he jerked his thumb towards the door.  

Grillby shook his head and patted the seat next to him on the couch.  Sans glanced at the exit and then shuffled over.  

“not that big a deal,” he said.  

Grillby had been thinking “low hp” meant around 20, not “easily accidentally killed by a froggit.”  

Sans sat next to him, clearly more uncomfortable with the conversation than his constant imminent death.  He had said it was an upward trend, and he’d been in a good mood until he told Grillby about it.  

“…this is a lot to take in.”

“eh. it’s never been that high, and i’m still here, so don’t worry about it.”  

Grillby stared at him.  "…I could have hurt you.“  

Sans _laughed_.  "nah.”  

“Your defense is _two_.”  

“yep that’s up, too.”  

Grillby groaned.  

“ok. i get if this is too much to deal with.  if it’s too _hot to handle._ ”  

“Sans.”

“ok. look.  how many years you think you’ve been trying not to hurt people, grillbz?  a decade?  you don’t have the will to kill anyone. you’re like my bro.”  He patted Grillby’s leg.  "i like that about you.“  

”…you’re overestimating me.“  

"nah.” He rummaged around in his pockets.  "look, even if you flipped out and went on a rampage, i’d be all right.“  He pulled out a few small colorful rubber balls, the kind Grillby saw sold in toy vending machines.

”…why do you have those?“ he asked, briefly distracted.

"the kiddo wanted to see if they could toss ‘em in my eye sockets.  i figured i got to keep the winners.”  He held them out.

“…those were in your head.”  

“yep. we’re gonna play the same game.  except i’m pretending you’re actually lobbing something dangerous at me.  got it?”  He saw the look on Grillby’s face.  "just trying to help.“  He got up off the couch and stood a little distance away.  

Grillby wasn’t sure that this was going to reassure him.  He had seen Sans dodge before, but now that entire encounter was retroactively more terrifying.  

Well, it wasn’t every day someone asked you to throw things at them.  He might as well.  If he went along with this, then Sans could think he had resolved the issue.  Grillby knew he was going to worry about it, anyway, but there wasn’t anything Sans could actually do about that.

He carefully aimed for the eye socket, and his throw was right on target.

He missed.  Sans just wasn’t standing where he had thrown it.  

"was that a warm-up?  give it another shot, pal.”  

After a few more misses, Grillby shook his head.  "…I get the point.“  

"just don’t get worked up about it,” Sans said.  He settled back down next to Grillby.  "you’ve dropped fifty yourself in the last month, so maybe worry about you first.“  

”…that’s rude.“  You didn’t just look at stats!  

"yeah.”

“I can afford it.”

“look. one of us needs a vacation, and it isn’t me.  i mean, i’ll take one, sure, any time, but i’m doing all right.”  

Grillby knew he hadn’t been his best, lately, and he had noticed the slow downward HP tick.  He hadn’t put together how big the drop was, though, if you looked at it over a month and not from day to day.  

“got nothin to say to that, huh.  well, if it’s none of my business, then guess what’s none of yours, grillby.”  

“It _is_ your business.”

Sans waited for him to say something else, but Grillby had no idea what to say.  Sans shrugged.  "ok.“  

Grillby looked down at his hands.  

"you know the cause?”  

“…yes.”

“i was gonna say, maybe i’m not the one paps should be sending on a guilt trip for a checkup.”  

“It will be fine.”  Sans was only bringing it up as a weird revenge for pushing about his own health issues.  

“yeah. maybe it’s just some minor thing, or maybe it’s just, you know. natural ebb and flow.”

“…right.”

“maybe it’s a big deal, but you aren’t going to tell me about it.”  He shrugged.

“…i understand.  I shouldn’t have pushed the issue in the first place.”

“yeah, when you asked me if i thought you should know, it was just like you stuck my bones in a vice.”  

Grillby was still looking down.  He felt Sans’ hand on his back, twitched, and Sans drew away again.  Grillby looked over, expecting to see a blankly cheerful expression, but Sans’ hand was still hovering in the air and he looked hurt.  Grillby quickly took Sans’ hand.  His flames passed through Sans’ fingerbones, warming them.  

“…I’ve been tired,” Grillby said.  

“c'mon grillbz.  it was over a ten percent drop.”  

Grillby watched his hand flicker up towards Sans’ sleeve.  "What do you want me to say?“  

"dunno.”

Sans’ hood was bunched up on the back of the couch, so Grillby reached out and put it back into proper order for him.  

“maybe you think it’ll fix itself.  you’re probably right.  i mean, how low can it get?”  He winked.  

Grillby didn’t appreciate Sans kidding about his HP.  He picked up one of the small rubber balls and went to poke it in Sans’ open eye socket.  He heard it fall on the floor, and Sans was a sudden weight in his lap, his face not even an inch away from Grillby’s.  

“sorry, grillbz.  hate to be the one to tell you, but if you’ve ever said you’ve got good aim, you were full of _hot air._ ”  

It actually was a bit of a relief to know how quickly Sans could react to things, when he needed to.  Grillby hadn’t even seen him move.  He had no idea how Sans’ magic worked.  

Sans bumped foreheads with him.  Grillby recognized it as one of the things he did instead of kissing.  

“your aim’s bad but that was still a pretty good shot at changing the subject,” Sans said.  "extra points for trying to do it without saying anything.“  

"Sans.” He sighed.  Complaining would hardly solve anything.  

“if it’s me–”

Grillby shook his head, vehement.  

Sans held up his hands.  "ok, pal.“

"It’s just work.”  

“ok.”

“Ok.”

Sans snorted.  "not going to tell you what to do, but if you took a real couple days off, we could go someplace.“  

"It’s not the amount of work,” he said, vaguely insulted.  "It’s–“ he broke off and rubbed his head, frustrated.  "I made the right choice.  I…I am completely sure I made the right choice.”

“doesn’t sound like it.”

“No, I’m sure.  Sometimes, I just wish I had made the selfish, wrong one.”

“nothing wrong with selfish,” Sans said.  "hey, not like i can judge.“  

Grillby laughed.  Sans’ pupils brightened and he bumped their heads together again.  Grillby’s glasses got knocked off kilter, and he decided to just take them off.  

"i’ll keep out of it,” Sans said.  "up to me, you’d retire"

“Yes, that’s why it isn’t up to you.”  What would he do all day?  He would get so bored he would end up opening another restaurant. Someplace small and quiet where he knew all the customers.  It would be harder breaking even, but he would manage.  

He had a long voicemail message from his mother congratulating him on his recent success.  What he had now was much closer to his original plan than his bar in Snowdin, after all.  

It was difficult to concentrate on his problems with Sans so close. Grillby never got tired of Sans’ eyes, and the way they looked like single bright stars in fields of complete black.  When Sans used his magic, sometimes one would glow a bright blue.  Grillby closed the tiny gap between them, again, kissing Sans under one eye socket, and then the other.  

Sans wasn’t nearly as easily distracted.  "you know, you think you have to keep doing stuff, just because you decided to and you’re supposed to.  but whether that’s a good idea or not depends on what it is you’re determined to keep doing.“  

Grillby wrapped his arms around Sans’ waist.  

"heh. not that giving up entirely’s the way to go.  take that from me, pal.  but – keeping in mind i have no idea what choice you’re talking about – are you _sure_ you made the best one? from where i’m sitting, you look like you’re ticking down one or two base hp a day.”

“I’ll adjust,” he said.  

“ok. sure you want to?”  

“Sans.”

“none of my business, got it.”  

“No. I said I don’t think that’s true.”  It wouldn’t have been his business years ago, but now Sans had met Grillby’s mother and Grillby knew Sans’ base HP and so on.  There were so many more bits and pieces of their lives that they had kept private that were going to be relevant to each other, the longer this went on.  If he wore himself down under a hundred HP because of his work, that wasn’t just Grillby’s problem to deal with anymore.  "I’m just…I haven’t had anything to eat since this morning.“  

"should probably get my lazy bones off of you, then.”  

“…unfortunately.”

The comfortable weight shifted off his lap, and Grillby got up and made himself dinner.  It helped him think clearly.  He sent a message to Papyrus while he was eating.

_3 HP?_

_I KNOW!  HE HAS MADE SO MUCH PROGRESS, I AM SO PROUD!  IS HE WITH YOU RIGHT NOW?_

_Yes._

_TELL HIM FOR ME THAT JUST BECAUSE HE IS MUCH BETTER, HE CAN’T JUST SLACK OFF FROM NOW ON._

_I will._

_Papyrus, you are a very good brother._

_I KNOW!!_

_THANK YOU!  SANS IS VERY IMPORTANT AND NEEDS THE BEST BROTHER IN THE WORLD TO REMIND HIM TO TAKE CARE OF HIMSELF._

Sans had tried to reassure him, and he had a little, but those few messages from Papyrus cheered him up more than some very impressive dodging.

Sans sat across from him at the table, occasionally sneaking something off Grillby’s plate.  From what he knew of his magic, Grillby actually catching him at it meant Sans wanted him to notice.  

“…your brother said you aren’t allowed to slack off, just because you’re better.”

“you guys talk about anything other than me, behind my back?” Sans asked.  

“…what else would anyone ever talk about?” Grillby wondered.  

Sans laughed.  "yeah.  you goin’ to bed early?“  

”…I am too wound up."

"too many irons in the fire, huh.”  

He shook his head.  "…I said it isn’t the work.  I worked harder when i first started out."  He remembered barely sleeping, working in kitchens going from job to job trying to piece together enough  to start up his own place.  He’d imagined a restaurant like what he had now–filled with people, more and more employees because there was just too much business to handle on his own, and everyone blending in together in an exciting rush.  

He had worked so hard, back then, but it had been out of love.  How could he not love what he was doing, anymore?  

"yeah, but you’re getting up there.  you shoulda seen the energy i had as a kid.”  

He was briefly distracted imagining Sans as an adorable, energetic child.  With a little telescope spending all his time in Waterfall looking up at the glowing rocks and playing pretend.  

“what’s that look?”  

“…you know, this place is sort of like a child, to me,” Grillby said.

“no kidding.”  

“…when a child turns out differently than you originally wanted, you just have to accept it.”  

Sans was quiet for a minute, and Grillby was caught up in his own thoughts, so he was surprised when Sans spoke.  "ok.  wow. there’s a lot to unpack there.“  

”…there is?“

"i mean, with kids, you’re better off just wanting 'em to end up good people.  but, eh, everyone does the kid thing differently.  not really my place to say anything, and they usually turn out ok if people care about 'em enough.”  

Grillby wondered if Sans wanted to be a dad.  He already sort of was to the human child.  

“i mean, a bar can be _like_ a kid to you.  sure.  but unless you aren’t tellin’ me something, bud, it’s still really different.”

“…my bar is not actually alive,” Grillby confirmed.

“that’d be a thing.  anyway, so it’s all right if you don’t like how things are, now.  the building’s not running away because it knows you think it’s a disappointment.”  

“…yes, that would be a thing.”  

Sans leaned back in his chair.  "i’m guessing you wish it was more like your old place.  but we aren’t supposed to miss anything from down there, right?  nah.  i kinda miss the old grillby’s too.  just a bunch of friendly monsters having a good time.  but, who am i kidding.  you could be cooking on top of a trash heap and i’d still be there.“  He winked.  

”…you don’t have to go there if you don’t like it anymore.  I cook for you anyway.“  

"eh, too many of our other old friends are there.  it just gets a little loud for naps, sometimes.”

“…you seem to manage.”

“yeah. practice makes perfect.”  He tapped the edge of the table.  "if you’re staying up, i’m making coffee.“  

Grillby nodded, and Sans got up.  

"not a lot of monsters own businesses around here, and the rest of 'em don’t deal with humans much.”  

“…right.”

“you scouted out a few places when you were starting up again.  most of 'em were smaller towns, miles away from humans.  but then you picked this place.  lots of monsters moved here, sure, so there’d be plenty of customers, but–” he shrugged.  

“…it was the right choice, to rebuild it here.”  Humans had to learn how to live around monsters, and vice versa.  

“sure. but all those years of piano, and your kid decided to go off to law school.”

“…I’m going to have to hire more people,” he said.  "…a bartender, so I can just work in the kitchen.“

"you hired a cook instead, you could at least–”  He turned and looked Grillby over.  "…nah, that’s never happening.“  

"If I can’t even _cook–_ ”  he broke off, genuinely distressed. He would rather go back to cooking at someone else’s restaurant with limited say in the menu than have someone else cook in _his_ kitchen.  

“yeah, that was a dumb idea; forget it.”  He had to stand on his tiptoes to reach the top cupboard.  Grillby had moved all the mugs down to the bottom shelf when Sans started making himself coffee in the morning, but it was still a reach.  

“How did this become entirely about me?” Grillby asked.  "I will adjust.  I’m sure there are monsters who would love to have to deal with being too successful.“  

"it’s about you because i’ve been wondering what was up.  for a couple months.  but i said, oh, that’s just grillby’s business.  he doesn’t pry too much when i have an issue.”  He came back over to the table and sat down.  "anyway, buy me something cool.  whatever’s wrong, that’ll solve it,“ Sans suggested, chuckling.  

Grillby politely waited until Sans was taking his first sip before he said anything.  ”…maybe I’ll buy a house.“

Sans choked on his coffee.  

”…or a bigger apartment.  There isn’t much space here.“  

"you barely do anything with what you have,” Sans pointed out.

“I could have a bigger kitchen and a full dining room.”

“hey if you got a guest room your mom could visit all the time.”  

“She can stay in a hotel,” he said, cold.

“huh. you guys fight again?”

Grillby shook his head.  "…just let me imagine my house.“  

"ok, ok.  how big’s the fridge?”

“…a boss monster could stand up inside it, and spread out their arms.”

“nice. how big’s the bed?”

“It doesn’t have to be that big.  It’s not like you take up a lot of space.”  

“low blow, grillbz.”  

Grillby laughed, partially covering his face with his hands.  

“no lower than my hp, though.”

He groaned.  "Sans.“

"what? too soon?”  

“It will always be too soon.”

“yeah, i guess me joking about it makes me kind of a _low life._ ”

Grillby made a pained noise, covering his face, and then gave up and laughed. It was Sans’ problem to joke about, he supposed.  

“or–”

Grillby threw his napkin at Sans’ head.  It missed.  


End file.
